


If You Weren't So Stupid, I Could Have Loved You

by xxxbookaholic



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Late at Night, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Saihara Shuichi Needs a Hug, Slow Dancing, Spoilers, Takes place after chapter 3, Waltzing, destiny is cruel, kind of, t/w for mention of noose and blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxbookaholic/pseuds/xxxbookaholic
Summary: A dance can't stop the killing game, but maybe it can clear Shuichi's mind.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	If You Weren't So Stupid, I Could Have Loved You

**Author's Note:**

> t/w for mention of noose and blood

Shuichi wasn’t alone in his room. He never really was. No matter how many times he double-checked his locks, looked under his bed, and shut his closet door, the feeling of eyes never stopped. There were people watching him. At least, that was what it felt like.

There were pairs of eyes glaring at him, hands reaching out to him, the falsely accused wailing at him. Tears and pink blood flooded his floor, rising up farther and farther, all the way until it was lapping at his chin and threatening to drown him.

But despite all of this, he didn’t cry. Instead, he just sat down on his bed and stared at his hands, feeling more useless than he had in years. Piano chords rang in his ears, reminding him of the noose that he’d tried so hard to forget. Chainsaws buzzed, edging closer to his arms every time he moved. Fire roared at his feet, licking at his legs and burning his ankles.

It was all so overwhelming. Everything was too much, and yet at the same time, nothing felt like it was enough. Not the pullups, not the burned eggs that Maki brought to his room, not the magic tricks Himiko tried to cheer everyone (and herself) up with.

Nobody there was okay. He wasn’t okay. Shuichi brought his hand up to wipe away the tear that had fallen. He couldn’t cry. There was still work to be done.

His tears didn’t listen. They kept dripping down his cheeks, standing as a reminder of everything he was feeling. Sometimes he wished he could just not care; maybe then he’d be able to do something right for once.

A detective, apprentice or not, could only do so much. That was all he had learned, even after years of experience in the field.

Just before his nails could dig into pale skin, there was a loud knock at the door. It was one that he didn’t recognize. Sighing, he stood up and pulled the door open.

Standing before him was Kokichi Ouma in his usual supreme leader fashion, smirk in place and eyebrows raised. “Hey, Saihara-chan! Do you want to dance with me?”

“Huh?” Shuichi managed, wincing at the flashlight that was poking out of Kokichi’s scarf and shining right into his eyes.

“Well, I don’t care what you think either way! Come on, let’s go!” He cheered, slipping his masquerade masks (when did he get those?) into one hand and grabbing the detective’s with the other. Without another word, he tugged Shuichi along behind him and ran out the door.

“Woah, wait, wait!” Shuichi yelled, desperately trying to pull away. Tired or not, he still had common sense. For all he knew, this could be a poorly put-together murder plot or, even worse, yet another elaborate prank.

“Be quiet!” Kokichi shushed him, only halting in his steps when they reached the garden entrance. Despite having been staying in that school for at least two weeks, Shuichi didn’t recognize their surroundings at all. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking around.

“How did you find this?” He asked. Twisting around revealed that from there, the dorms were still just barely in sight.

“That’s a secret I’ll never tell,” Kokichi snickered. “This is one of my secret hideouts, though, so you better be grateful that I was nice enough to show you! Now get on your knees and lick my boat!”

“You aren’t wearing boots,” Shuichi turned up his nose. “And even if you were, I’d pass.”

“You’ve got me again,” the ultimate supreme leader snapped his fingers twice and began to venture further into the area. “Now come on! We’ve got work to do.”

“Work?” Shuichi asked. Reluctantly, he followed. Their footsteps echoed on the pavement and echoed, reminding him of just how alone they were.

“Dance class of course. It’s just a crime that you don’t know something as simple as that,” Kokichi frowned, his face completely serious. _I don’t think that’s the crime we have to worry about here,_ he thought but didn’t say, frown plastering itself onto his face.

“I know how to dance.”

“Oh?” Kokichi gasped, leaning forward on his tiptoes. He was acting like he already knew that, which was odd, seeing as Shuichi had never mentioned anything of the sort earlier. “Do tell how you learned that.”

“My uncle,” Shuichi explained, fidgeting with the hem of his button-up shirt. Being outside with his jacket was already beginning to be hell and they hadn’t even been there for longer than a minute or two. Surely Monokuma could fix the weather as easily as he could fix dead bodies and snapped bones?

Kokichi hummed before tossing a mask over to him. Shuichi caught it right before it hit the floor and brought it close to his face, trying his best to make sense of the whole situation. There was nothing particularly special about it. The mask was made of cheap material but durable and it was painted a dark blue, cyan roses lining the sides gracefully. If he was in any other kind of situation, he’d probably admire it rather than question it.

“What’s this for?” He asked. Kokichi scoffed in response while pulling on his own mask. It was similar to Shuichi’s in shape but looked completely different otherwise. The paint was a royal purple instead of navy and was surrounded by objects that looked like dice.

“To wear for the masquerade, silly! Put yours on.”

Shuichi still didn’t budge, eyeing it skeptically. “Is this really necessary?”

“It isn’t just necessary, Shumai,” Kokichi stated firmly, planting his feet on the ground. “It’s mandatory!”

He waited for a few seconds and then gave in, tightening the strap around his head and adjusting it so he could see out of the mask perfectly fine. Somehow, it fit him perfectly, as if it was made for him personally. “Now what?”

Instead of responding, Kokichi grabbed Shuichi’s hand with his own and pulled them both backwards. Even with his eyes covered, the grin on his face was still clearly visible. “Now we dance! Aren’t you paying attention?”

“I am paying attention,” Shuichi said, hovering his free hand in the air awkwardly. “I just don’t understand why we have to do this.”

“Because I said so!” Kokichi answered helpfully. “Put your hand on my waist. I don’t have all night!” He whined, tapping his foot on the ground.

_Well,_ Shuichi thought as he followed the directions, _it wasn’t like one dance would hurt._ Kokichi’s smile got a bit smaller but still remained. He took a small breath and then stepped backwards, leading Shuichi to do the same.

It didn’t take long for them to fall into a rhythm, one step at a time. While their waltz continued, Shuichi felt his paranoia slip away like goo, as if the eyes were slowly starting to flutter shut. He could no longer feel hands clawing at his throat, nor could he hear Flohwalzer playing on loop in his ears. To him, the only thing in his world was warm hands and whistling wind.

Rose bushes swayed in the breeze and stars glimmered in the sky. The flowers that inhabited the garden were like a border that separated them from the outside world. In that moment, Shuichi wanted nothing more than to set up camp in that place and never leave. He couldn’t even find it in himself to care that it was Kokichi that was gripping his hand and not literally anyone else.

Nothing mattered because Kokichi’s smile was more genuine than it had been ever since they were admitted into that hell of a killing game. It didn’t matter because Shuichi was finally at ease. It didn’t matter because the blood under his chin had dried up and left only a stain in its wake.

“You know,” Kokichi said, his voice just above a whisper, “you’re a terrible dancer.”

Shuichi laughed, falling backwards and then to the side in a pattern that he quietly hoped would never end. “Probably.”

His heart pounded in his chest but it wasn’t nerve-wracking. Rather, it was comfortable. The whole situation felt more intimate than anything he’d ever had with Kaede, that was for sure.

He shouldn’t feel this way. Kaito would probably lecture him for trusting Kokichi so easily and Maki would point out that feelings or not, they’re still in a killing game.

_I should let go._

He held on.

They danced until the sun began to peak over the horizon and Shuichi’s eyes started to drift close and his legs started to tremble. Kokichi snickered, but it felt forced. It was clear that he didn’t want their night to end, either.

“What, are you tired already?” He taunted with no edge. Shuichi just sighed and took the mask off his face.

“We’ve been moving around since eleven,” he deadpanned. “Of course I am.”

“You’re so lame!” Kokichi said. Before Shuichi could argue, he turned around and skipped down the pavement, legs kicking up in the air and arms waving. “Are you coming or what?”

_Am I?_ Shuichi wanted to say no. He wanted to collapse onto the ground and pull Kokichi down with him, wanted to grip onto a rose vine and never let go. The last thing he wanted was to be forced back into the life-or-death situation they’d found themselves in.

But people needed him. He couldn’t leave them in their time of need. No matter how much he wished upon the stars, Monokuma wouldn’t end the killing game just by sheer will. There was no way Shuichi could back out then. He had made a promise to Kaede and he couldn’t break it, no matter how much the truth hurt.

So, with an ache in his feet, he powered forward and followed Kokichi out of the garden.

As the sun glared into his face and the sweet smell of flowers vanished from his nose, reality closed in and gravity pulled him back to the ground. He had a job to do, as did Kokichi. Neither of them could give up, not with how far they’d already gotten.

By the time he’d made it into his dorm, the waltz felt more like a fever dream than anything else.

_Can I even find comfort in a place like this?_ He wondered as he fell forward onto his bed. Blood was already beginning to soak his shoes through.

A piano key was pressed and the song began again.

Oh how Shuichi wished he was deaf.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic! This is actually based off my own interpretation of canon compliant saiouma. I also posted about this on my tumblr, xxxbookaholic! Saiouma gives me a lot of bittersweet feelings so I wanted to express that in this fanfiction. As characters who play opposing roles in the story, they're constantly forced against each other. Sometimes, the villain and hero have to wonder if they were ever meant to find true happiness at all. Kokichi is misunderstood and isolated while Shuichi is shoved into a leadership position that he doesn't want and acts as pretty much a puppet, being forced to save everybody and figure out mysteries all on his own with limited help. It's a struggle for both of them and a burden they carry together.  
> Please leave a comment and kudos! It's really encouraging.  
> Have a nice rest of your day/night.


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